Coming Home (Part 5)

Posted on Fri Dec 30th, 2022 @ 2:59am by Private Mattias Tonelly & General Dyami Bentley (Tribal : Bent Leaf)

Dyami turned back to the wheelchair bound young man, “We will need to go see the lawyers tomorrow, are you hungry?”

Mattias was quiet as he watched the interaction between Bethany and Dyami. Then, after Bethany slipped into unconsciousness, he looked back up at the powerfully-built shaman. "Lawyers? For what?" Then his stomach grumbled, causing him to give some focus to the second question. "Yes Sir," he replied quietly. "Beth and I had just sat down to dinner, and had started to eat, when she collapsed."

Dyami smiled and replied, “The lawyers have already begun work on transferring all your family’s assets to your name. The house, cars, personal affects and the insurance policies to be exact. Once the correct papers have been signed you will not have to worry about it anymore; they will take care of the rest.”

Dyami walked over and began pushing Mattias out of the room and down the long sterile corridor of the hospital. As they waited for the elevator he continued. “Your parents' bodies are being brought here for burial, unless you have another place in mind.”

Being brought back to the present, thinking about his parents, a few tears started to fall down Mattias’s cheeks. "I..I don't know, Sir…." He had never been taught what to do in a situation like this. And, any time in the past, when he felt lost, he would go to his parents. That was no longer an option for him.

"Can…can I speak to my parents…in the spirit world?'

Dyami pushed the wheelchair into the elevator while Mattias spoke. He sighed quietly when asked about the boy’s parents, “I do not think that is a good idea Mattias, there comes a time in everyone's life when they are forced, for good or ill, to rely upon themselves and to play the cards that life has dealt them.” Dyami laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder and continued, “You must decide the course of your life Mattias. Your parents would want you to forge your own path.”

Mattias lowered his gaze slightly, feeling a bit heartbroken that he'd never see his parents, hear their voices, ever again. Finally, he nodded. "I'd like them buried here, where I'm starting my new life. But, I don't know what to do about burying them. I've never been to a funeral."

“I will see to all the preparations.” Dyami pushed the young boy out of the elevator after reaching the ground floor. “What religion were your parents?”

"They were Norse Paganists, like me," Mattias replied honestly. He knew that they were a minority, in regards to religious beliefs, but he was still proud of the faith he was raised in.

“So cremation by Pyre? That can be arranged.” He continued through the lobby and outside into the warm night air. Breathing in a deep breath of the clean air he stopped at the front curb to the hospital. Lifting two fingers to his mouth he whistled loudly. Somewhere in the parking garage the sound of a loud engine starting echoed across the parking lot. “Do you want the ashes?”

Mattias waited quietly as he waited with Dyami by the curb. As he did so, he silently said a prayer to his Gods, for both his parents and Bethany and Jon. Looking back up at Dyami, he replied. "I think they'd like to have their ashes mixed together. Yes..I…I think I do."

“A great choice I think they would have agreed with you on that.” Dyami smiled and ruffled the boy's hair playfully, “Hey! Look, here comes our ride.” He pointed to an old 1980’s green truck with a white stripe running down the side pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the drop off circle where they stood.

Mattias looked at the truck, which looked similar to one his father, now he, owned. "Automatic or manual?" He might have reacted to the driverless pickup pulling up to the curb, had he not been standing next to the powerful shaman.

“Manual of course, I use it for ranching at the village in Oklahoma. You will visit there soon, you will do a lot of training there. It will be a second home in time." As the truck pulled up, Mattias could see the words U.S. Marshal in large font on the doors of the truck. It was dented and scratched with somewhat faded paint. But the engine seemed to purr like the workhorse it was.

Dyami opened the door and gave a helping hand to Mattias who was looking quite tired after a long stressful day. Once he was buckled, the Indian man loaded the wheelchair in the back and climbed into the truck. “So how does pizza sound?”

Relaxing into the large bench seat, Mattias looked over to Dyami and grinned slightly as he replied. "Sounds great, Sir."

-------------------FIN-------------------